War of Westeros
by Singing Fire
Summary: War has engulfed the Westeros, and the return of the Targaryens heralds nothing but more battle and fighting. House Stark, without army and their ancestral home in Bolton hands, must choose between an alliance with the rightful Baratheon king or a Dragon Queen and her dragons. The Wall fights to throw back the threat from the north and the realm will tremble for Winter is coming.
1. Chapter 1

**Warning: if you have not read Captured yet, get off of this story right now and read that first. You will thank me when you reach this story.**

**No summary required for before readers. If you have read Captured, welcome to the sequel, War of Westeros. Enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own GOT or song of ice and fire**

**DAENERYS POV**

Ser Barristan cautioned her about mummers claiming dragon blood, who would lie to seek her hand and her favor and her dragons. She had thought the hooded man who walked boldly into her camp to be one of them, speaking of dragon blood, and she told herself that silver hair could be dyed and violet eyes could be just a shade of blue. No matter how much she wanted him to tell the truth, that she did have kin that was not mad, not dead in the ground, but alive and with her.

So she took him to see her dragons. Most mummers when confronted with a dragon would have fled in the night then see her children. This mummer was excited, and doubt grew in her mind. He _could _be the blood of a dragon. He could be who he claimed, son of her brother Rhaegar, and heir to the Iron Throne of Westeros. Aegon Targaryen.

So she took him to her children, just herself and him. The dragons had not burnt him on sight, but had not clung to his shoulder like Drogon had flown to her. She had patted his scaly warm neck and said "I have been warned about mummers, men claiming dragon blood to steal my dragons, my children. Are you one of these men?"

The man had shook his head, all silver hair and purple eyes and he had reached out and touched Rhaegal's scaly leg. Her child of green and bronze had not burnt him, but butted his hand with his head and sneezed a small spark of flame.

That had told her everything.

Now, she stood on the prow of a ship, her black cape fluttering behind her and her nephew's hand in hers. She could not deny he was beautiful, like a singer's hero come to life. She could not deny he was a Targaryen, the way Rhaegal bonded with him and became his. She accepted his proposal and had one of his companions, a septa named Lemore, wed them with dragons overhead and a fleet of ships in the water beside them. Her Unsullied soldiers and his Golden Company combined was a force to be reckoned, and she could almost imagine sitting with a crown in her hair and a throne made of the swords of defeated foes.

Aegon took her hand and spread his other at the brilliant sky, the water of crystal blue that melded unbroken with the sky.

"Imagine, beyond that water is our throne, our kingdom." He said, excitement tangible in his voice. She nodded and said "They will not rejoice our coming, they will fight our rule."

Aegon laughed and said "That is why we have an army and dragons. With dragons, we will be Aegon the Conqueror come again."

She tugged her cloak tighter around her shoulders as sea spray flew into the sky, droplets like liquid diamond floating in the sky a moment and casting a myriad of rainbows across the deck. The feeling of hope building in her chest made her thoughts stray to the country she had never seen but called her homeland. The places Viserys had often whispered to her about. The bitter, unforgiving north. The rocky island in the sea that he called home. The beauty to Highgarden, though he had never been. But she only thought of the house with the red door, the only place she could truly call home until she reached Westeros.

"We cannot be just conquerors." She said "We must be rulers, we must be kind to those who will become our people."

Aegon nodded and said "We will be. We will be fierce, but just and kind."

"You must also create allies. Dorne will stand with us for Aegon's mother, Elia. But we cannot fight with a sellsword company, Dorne and an Unsullied army. We need other allies." Jon Connington, the man who raised Aegon instead of Rhaegar, came up behind him. He crossed his arms and said "You must think on how to gain their loyalty and not just to burn their lands and people in dragonfire."

Aegon nodded and said "We will, worry not. But first, we must reach Westeros."

Daenerys nodded and the ships set off, a fleet of ships all with the Targaryen banner fluttering in the sharp, salty breeze.

As the sea spray soaked the hem of her dress and the sky stretched above her, Daenerys thought to herself _I return to my home for the first time since I was a newborn babe. To home…_

**TYRION POV**

His sister was always one for theatrics.

This thought crossed his mind fleetingly as he was marched into the throne room in chains. He stumbled several times on the long heavy chains. It amused him his sister thought him this dangerous, as if he was going to disappear in a puff of smoke.

Cersei was seated on the Iron Throne, wearing black bordered in red and gold. The throne room was aglow with the colors, the Lannister lion everywhere, as if trying to say 'you are not one of us.'

He was hit on the back of the knees, which forced him to kneel before his sister. She looked smug at the sight, but did not smile.

"Tyrion Lannister," she called out, her voice ringing through the room. The court was already silent, so the loudness was quite unnecessary. "You are accused of poisoning your king and nephew, with the crimes of regicide and kinslaying over your head."

She leaned forward in the throne, nails digging into the steel armrest. "You killed him and now you must pay the price with death."

Tyrion examined his hands and asked "Is that everything."

The court was like it was not even there, just waiting for Cersei's signal to leave. This was going to turn nasty fast.

His sister sat back up, ignoring the swords jabbing into her spine and said "You are saying you have more crimes?"

Tyrion smiled to himself. She set herself up for that one.

"I was expecting you to charge me for more ridiculous crimes that I did not do. I did not kill Joffrey."

Cersei looked ready to leap forward and claw his eyes out except for the court standing there watching her. She schooled her face and said "You, Imp, will die for this."

Tyrion was short enough as he was. A head shorter would not be beneficial to his health.

"I believe I was dragged here in chains for a trial, not an execution." He said, shaking the chains and the rattling washed over the room. Cersei was a mask of calm, except for the grinding of her teeth, and the sound of her grating made him smile.

"Now, if we have a trial, who are the judges who will try me?" he asked, looking to the court. Mace Tyrell, Oberyn Martell and his own father, Tywin Lannister. Oberyn smiled, Mace Tyrell looked fat as usual, and his father was made of stone, his face severe and blank.

Cersei relaxed again and didn't say a word.

Mace Tyrell cleared his throat and said "You are on trial for the murder of King Joffrey Baratheon, first of his name, King of the seven Kingdoms"

"Wouldn't it be Six Kingdoms, since the north happens to have their own king?" Tyrion asked. Mace continued on, not listening to him and going on through Joffrey's list of titles that he didn't even deserve.

Mace finished and looked down at Tyrion. The look of hatred in his eyes made him glance around. Everyone seemed to think him a kinslayer except for a few. Margaery Tyrell was in the crowd, wearing dark red and her hair brushed and left down. Her brother Garlan was beside her, in green for his house and he nodded when he saw Tyrion watching.

"In defense of the late King, the Crown." Mace said. Oberyn winked at Tyrion and asked "In defense of Lord Lannister?"

He saw Margaery hesitate. That was not good. He knew his sister was not fond of his son's little wife, and this would throw her in the deep pit of hatred she reserved for her husband and her enemies like Ned Stark and his son Robb, and Tyrion. And the pit of hatred was not one you could climb out of again, never.

Then she stepped forward. "I, Margaery Tyrell, stand in defense for Tyrion Lannister."

"Margaery." Her father said harshly. "Do not be ridiculous. The Imp is a kinslayer."

Margaery shook her head and said "No, Tyrion Lannister is many things, but I find it hard to believe that he is a kinslayer."

Tyrion couldn't help himself. He glanced at his sister. Her face was turning from pale to red to purple with anger. What greater slight then your good daughter going against the Crown for your hated, little dwarf brother? Tyrion almost enjoyed getting tried just for the benefit of seeing Cersei prepare to spit blood.

Mace glanced from Cersei to Margaery, despair evident in his face. "Your Grace, I assure you this is no ploy of mine. My daughter is willful at best and she…"

"Has proven herself to be no good daughter of mine." Cersei hissed like a viper, her eyes burning like wildfire at the little Lady Rose. Margaery remained strong though, standing before the court and worse, his sister, and said "I believe in Lord Lannister's innocence, so I will fight to prove it."

Her father looked like he might either hit his daughter or silently combust.

Cersei sat straight and stiff and said in a cold voice "Any else who will defend Tyrion Lannister, say now and know you are now and forever against the crown."

No one moved for a moment, the Garlan Tyrell stepped forward. Mace Tyrell's jaw dropped and his eyes flew to Cersei's rage filled face immediately.

"I believe my sister, and I am the best witness. I was seated next to the Imp the entire time, I saw him slip no poison in his drink." The second Tyrell son said, and Cersei narrowed her eyes at him. Tyrion knew she was scrambling for a plan, some way of making sure she came out on top. Garlan had a wife, he wouldn't be seduced. He obviously was rich, so money would not work. Only her temper and her name left.

Tyrion knew she had reached the conclusion Tyrion had by the way her eyes glowed with a cold madness.

"Ser Garlan, Lady Margaery, you would go against you good family for this, Imp?" she asked in a dangerously soft voice. His sister wasn't dangerous, but she was mad with power and that made many step warily around her. Like they had with Mad Aerys.

"The kingdoms need justice, and justice is truth. I speak the truth now." Garlan said, insistent. Tyrion wanted to applaud the young rose, but he didn't dare stoke Cersei's rage any further.

Oberyn smiled at him, a little triumphant. This battle was not over, not for a long time. Cersei would fight to prove him guilty, to send for Ser Ilyn with the Stark sword that had been melted down for two and remove his head.

Cersei stood from the throne and said "We shall leave the trial for the morrow. Take the Imp back to his cell."

His guards grabbed his arms and dragged him through the crowd, and he could just see Margaery and Garlan leaving quickly before their father could catch up with them.

They threw him unceremoniously inside his cell, but thankfully he fell on his little mattress and not on the hard cold stone floor.

"Enjoy yourself, imp." His guards shut the door with a loud bang, and he could hear the lock snapped into place. He sat as much as he could, but the guards had not removed the chains around his wrists. The heavy iron manacles were cumbersome and rather annoying.

"Would you do me the honor of removing my handcuffs?" he asked. He heard the sound of spitting and someone shout "Go piss yourself dwarf."

Oh, Cersei probably chose these two just to annoy him.

**SANSA POV**

It was a young crannogman, she thought his name to be Orvil.

"His Grace wishes to see you." He said. Sansa set aside her sewing and stood.

"Do you know what for?" she asked. Orvil shook his head and said "A raven arrived from the east."

She followed the man, who was perhaps a little shorter than her, to her brother's rooms. Lord Howland was there, along with Lady Jyanna, her uncle Edmure and Jeyne. Robb was frowning, a serious look on his face.

"This cannot be true. They said Gregor Clegane bashed his head on a stone wall." He said, looking at his uncle.

He looked deep in thought and Howland said "It could be possible, there are families with silver hair and purple eyes. The Daynes in Dorne are one."

Robb set down the letter and she could almost imagine him in King's Landing, a crown of iron and bronze on his head. She never believed her brother could acts as a king, but now he looked every inch the King in the North and not her brother.

He looked up and noticed Sansa there for the first time. "Sansa." He said in greeting, and she sat down beside Jeyne.

"What's going on? Who sent the letter?" she asked. Jeyne handed her the crisp white parchment, and a broken red wax seal. Stamped into the hardened wax was a three headed dragon, a fierce looking monster. She turned it over and the writing was clear and stark against the pale paper.

She skimmed over the words and said "Targaryens returning? I thought they were all gone?"

Robb nodded and said "Daenerys Targaryen escaped across the Narrow Sea, that's what Father told me. She escaped with her brother and has lived there ever since. Obviously her brother died and she and this boy calling himself Aegon Targaryen the sixth have an army."

She looked up at her brother and his shoulders were slumped, already shaking under the weight of trying to fight a war. Now dead Targaryens come again and with no army, the King in the North had no way of fighting.

Jeyne was holding his hand and said "They'll be looking for allies, and you control half the realm in the north."

Robb didn't look relieved at the reminder of the lives pressed in his hands. He nodded and said "Unless we can find an army, we have no way of fighting this war."

Howland scratched his beard and everyone was silent. Robb was lost deep in brooding thought and Sansa knew nothing of what to say. She knew the barest basics of court, but this was a war meeting. She had no idea why Robb would have asked her here.

"Sansa," she started a little at the sound of her name "Do you know what forces the Lannisters control?"

Sansa looked down at her hands and said "The Tyrells will, but as soon as they hear their old lords are back…they supported the Targaryens to the end in the rebellion."

Robb nodded and Howland said "Shall we call the rest of your lords?"

Robb opened his eyes and said "Bring them, this concerns the entire north."

Howland stood and spoke with Orvil outside, in a low voice. Robb groaned and his head fell back.

"I'm not made for war." He muttered.

Jeyne played with her fingers and said "No one is, but you have to try."

Sansa looked to Lady Jyanna. The crannogwoman looked deep in thought about the Targaryens.

"They have dragons as well." Robb said, sitting upright again. "Three dragons that are growing. They'll threaten to put the north to the torch unless I join with them."

Jyanna merely said "I cannot tell you which choice is the right one, but think on this. You have to recover and you do not have to make this choice now. The Targaryens are still at sea, and it will take them a while yet to arrive in Westeros with the autumn storms.

Robb grunted and looked less the relieved at the thought.

The Greatjon arrived first, with the rest of the lords following behind him.

"Sansa, if you want to leave, you can." Robb said, sitting upright and forcing a stoic face.

She stood and said "I know you'll make the right choice." And left. As soon as she shut the door behind her, Arya and the boy Mole were there.

"What's going on? The entire keep seems tense." Arya asked. Mole blinked with those large owlish eyes of his and Sansa wondered how much she could share.

"There are dragons coming to Westeros. Three living, breathing, flying dragons." She said.

**Sansa was short and a little forced, not as smooth as others I've done. Well, first chapter done. What is Robb going to do? How will the war be changed with the Targaryens return with DRAGONS? HUGE, FREAKING DRAGONS! I don't know, but it's going to be good.**

**I said you won't have to wait long, didn't I? Tell me what you think?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Okay, word of warning. I have MANY plans for Tyrion Lannister. Oh, this is going to be fun. And oh, I love writing Cersei getting mad. It's fun! It's so easy to bug her.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own GOT or song of ice and fire.**

**JON POV**

When first Stannis had come to the Wall, he thought it would not be that bad. That he would fight for them, help drive off the wildlings and go. When he wanted castles, he let him, they were not in use anyway. Now, he would rather the King on the Wall, would just leave.

His Hand, Davos Seaworth was a good man, honorable and honest, which was hard to find in men. His Hand was not that horrible. Stannis, and his thrice gods be damned Red Woman….

He knelt before the heart tree, looking at the wise face carved into the bark that wept tears of blood.

_Do you weep for the realm? _He asked _or do you weep for the Red God that has come to your north? _

Ghost sat beside him, silent as always and with red eyes the same as the heart tree. He rubbed the direwolf between the ears and said "What are we going to do Ghost?"

Ghost didn't offer any advice, and neither did the heart tree.

His knees were stiff from kneeling in snow so long. He stood and brushed the white from his legs. He was cold and he wanted a mug of ale and one night of rest without nightmares.

He barely stepped out of the godswood when Lady Melisandre was there beside him, all in red and with that pulsing red jewel at her throat.

"Lord Commander." She said, and he grunted in greeting. He wanted nothing to do with Stannis's Red Woman, and he knew quite a few of the men were nervous around her. They said she saw things in her flames, things that spoke of the future. Personally, he thought the future was something no one should try to see.

"His Grace wishes to speak with you urgently." She said. Jon frowned. He had been in the godswood since noon, and it was long past that now.

"Why did you not come and fetch me then, if it was so urgent?" he asked.

Melisandre looked back at the godswood and said "It is a place of evil gods. R'hollor is the one true god. They are trees that you worship, and think that they are gods."

He didn't like people insulting his gods. The gods he prayed to, the gods his father, his brother, his family, Starks beyond count had prayed to for guidance and help.

"You may bow to one god and I to another, but I would ask you not call them evil gods. They are the gods of the north, and they hold power here." He said.

_They protected my brother. _He added on to himself _they saved Robb, and I can never thank them enough._

Melisandre didn't say anything, not about the old gods or hers and they finished the trip to Stannis's chambers in silence.

Stannis had taken up chambers in the King's Tower, and that was where he waited for Jon now, with his Hand and his queen's brothers and uncles and cousins, all with the unfortunate Florent ears. They all looked at him as if he were the enemy, being paraded in front of them.

"They voted this green boy their Lord Commander?" one Florent asked, and Jon tried to not visibly bristle. Ghost stepped in after him and several men jumped back and stumbled.

"What the hell is that thing?" the man asked, the one who called him a green boy.

Jon placed his hand on Ghost's back, who was already tall enough that he had to lift his arm to reach his back.

"This is Ghost. He's a direwolf. They don't have those in the Reach, do they?" he asked. The man scowled and Jon turned to the King and Davos. Both had seen Ghost before, so both were unfazed and he said "You asked to see me Your Grace."

He had learnt early on it was easier to just call Stannis his king. It saved him from getting irritating to early on.

Stannis stood, and he looked thinner than when he had last seen him. He was thin, drawn, pale and shivering even under the heavy cloak he wore. He was from the south, Jon reasoned, he would not be used to the cold weather.

"You have not given an answer on which north lords would ally with me." He said. All eyes seemed to go immediately to him, even Ghost's.

He didn't want to say who. That would be betraying his brother, taking the lords that were his and giving them to Stannis. But he couldn't deny the king forever.

"Because it is not my place to speak of such things." And idea struck him, like a bolt of lightning during a storm of chaos. It would work for Stannis, enough that he would believe he was doing it for his benefit. And he would see him, if only one more time.

"Why not just send a letter to my brother, asking for his allegiance?" he asked. He should have just announced he was actually a Targaryen, the effect would have been the same. Everyone turned to him and gave him looks of surprise and stunned faces.

The man who called him green boy asked "What, let the traitor to the rightful king return for no punishment? Have you taken leave of your senses, or it your green boy instinct showing?"

He was_ no _green boy.

"He would bring the allegiance of the Riverlands and the north, and he has far more experience in battle than half these lords here." He said. Stannis appeared to be brooding the idea and said "He did not bend the knee to me at first. There will be punishment, justice must be served."

"Remove him from Lord of Winterfell." One man suggested. Another called "Send him to this god damned Wall after. Leave his pretty little maiden sister as Lady."

Stannis stood and said "You are not as useless as I originally thought Lord Snow?"

Jon bristled but didn't make the stinging retort he could feel on his tongue. He bit the tip and said "Thank you Your Grace. Will that be all?"

Stannis waved his hand in a vague dismissal. He was now deep in discussion with the gathered lords and he took the initiative and left.

Standing in the cold wind, he glanced at the grey sky and wondered.

_Did I do the right thing?_

**MARGAERY POV**

Her father managed to hold back the anger he was feeling until they reached their rooms. Margaery was sitting at the vanity, Elis brushing her hair. Her stormy blue eyes looked up at the door as her father barged in, his face red with supressed rage.

She stands as Elis finished untying the ribbon from her hair.

"Elis, could you leave us for a minute. Why don't you go find my grandmother." She said. Elis set down the brush and curtsied, her black braid falling over her shoulder, and left.

Mace waited until the door had closed behind her before demanding "What were you _thinking_? You married Joffrey Baratheon to get in the Lannister's good graces. You ruined that, and you have damaged our family's reputation."

Margaery stood and said "The queen is a spent force, her power is dwindling. With Tywin Lannister destroying the last few forces in the Riverlands"

"We should be allying with his only daughter, not his disliked, younger son." Mace spoke over her. His anger seemed to die a touch and he said "Dear sweet daughter. Why did you do that?"

Margaery sighed and said "He did no crime, he did not kill Joffrey. Someone else did, someone much more dangerous."

Mace sighed and said "You will be the ruin of me daughter." He embraced her tightly and said "I cannot stay mad at you, not when you look so much like your mother."

"And you can't stay mad at mother." She whispered into his shoulder, where he had pressed her face "Father, you are not at fault for this. The Queen will see that, and if we are wrong she will pardon us. Lannisters are dangerously loyal to their blood. And for good or ill, we are their blood."

Mace sighed and said "Very well daughter."

Then the door opened and her grandmother was helped in by Elis, who looked like she would rather be anywhere else then with my grandmother.

"And see, when we were children…."

"Grandmother, you shall talk poor Elis's ear off." She said, freeing her new maidservant and taking her grandmother by the arm.

Grandmother turned on Mace and said "I will talk to my granddaughter alone Mace. Why don't you go find that Lannister queen of yours, see if you can't convince her that House Tyrell, minus a few, are behind the Crown? Do something useful."

Mace grumbled, but Grandmother's sharp eyes made him leave all the same. As soon as the door closed behind him and Elis had sat her down to start braiding her hair, Grandmother asked "Can you trust this little wench."

The girl flushed and turned to give a stinging retort, but Margery spoke before she could "Elis is a friend Grandmother, please, you scare away all my friend here let me have one."

Her grandmother shook her head and said "Well, if this little girly tells that Lannister queen what I said here, you can call your fried to save you from the noose."

Margaery waited till her grandmother sat and said "What did you promise Garlan to stand testimony for the Imp?"

She smiled and said "I didn't promise him anything grandmother, you know how much my brothers love me."

Her grandmother said "You are far sneakier then many would give you credit for. Smart bringing in Garlan, he sat next to the Imp at the wedding. If that Lannister wench got her little claws in him and made him testify against, then we wouldn't need a trial. We would need that daft tongue less man."

The image of Ser Ilyn Payne stepping from the shadows with his skull sword made her shiver. It had haunted her, that moment and Joffrey's choking, dark face. She shoved the images aside and said "Thank you Grandmother, so rarely a praise comes from you that I forgot how sweet it is to hear."

Her grandmother shook her head and said "Sweet words do not work on an old soul Marge, you should know that."

The Queen of Thorns got up and leaned over her shoulder, pushing Elis aside, who wisely said nothing.

"Be careful. That Lannister queen won't be able to stand you know that you have declared your support for the Imp. I would be wary around her. And tell Garlan as well, for I am old and can't go down to the practice fields."

Margaery nodded, and whispered back "I wouldn't trust her any more than she trusts me."

Her Grandmother patted her hair and said "Smart girl. We may be pretty roses, but we also have thorns."

**ARYA POV**

The Neck was not the same as Winterfell, but it was still better than anywhere she had stayed since she left Winterfell.

Mole, that little boy who lived in the Neck, tugged on her elbow and said "Come on, we aren't supposed to be here."

Arya turned on him and said "If you're too scared, go on then."

Mole flushed in the dim light and said "I'm not leaving. I'm just saying."

She ignored him now and crept along the dark hallways, tugging the dark cloak around her shoulders. She had to see. She had to know.

The cell was only a few iron bars, not even a real cell like in King's Landing or Winterfell. The Lannister captain sat tugging on the chains. He hadn't been cleaned probably since he marched out from Lannisport. Arya wrinkled her nose and demanded "Are you Kevan Lannister?"

The Lannister looked up and asked "What's it to you? Who are you, some little bog devil wench?"

Arya scowled and said "I'm no wench you stupid. Are you Kevan Lannister?"

The man stood and smiled at her.

"Say I was Kevan Lannister. What would you do with me child?"

Arya scowled at the Lannister. The way he was talking, he was used to giving orders, so he was probably from Lannisport.

"If I was in charge, and you were Kevan Lannister, I would keep you prisoner. Tywin Lannister won't trade for you, he would burn the Neck and kill all the crannogmen to get to you."

The Lannister man smiled and said "You're smarter than you look boy. And if I'm not Kevan Lannister, what would you do with me then?"

She scowled. This man was avoiding the question.

"If you weren't Kevan Lannister, I would kill you and send you back to you precious army in pieces." She growled.

"Are you Kevan Lannister?"

The man crossed his arms and said nothing. She was prepared to open the door and she would have threatened him with Needle if she still had it, but she didn't so she supposed a dagger would do.

His smile at her scowl and she second guessed herself. Before, she would have gone in there and attacked him without thought. Now, she wondered what would happen if she did. She was a small girl, he was a rather tall man and he would pin her easily, no matter if she had a dagger. Mole would run because he was small and young, only eight. Then the Lannister would be free with her dagger.

She smiled and him and said "Your baiting me. Gonna try and get me to open your little cage. Nice try Lannister."

It was his turn to scowl. He thought her a stupid little girl, easily fooled and manipulated. That had been her once, but not now. Never again would she be used.

She led Mole back upstairs, away from the Lannister man who would try to use her to escape. Mole glanced at her, his dark brown eyes wide and he said "He knew exactly what to say to get you mad. You knew what he was doing, you were like, a wizard."

Mole was only eight, he didn't know how bad Lannisters were. He only knew that a bad man was caught and she had known he would use them. He didn't understand anything else. He kind of reminded her of Rickon, back in Winterfell. She missed her brothers, she missed Winterfell. She missed her father.

She marched back up, and found lord Howland waiting for them, arms crossed and mud smeared across his nose.

His eyes were unreadable, and they faintly reminded her of her father's eyes, when he knew that she was practicing archery with Jon.

"What are you doing down there?" he asked, his eyes on Arya.

Mole answered. "We were talking to Lannister. He didn't tell us if he was Kevan Lannister or not."

Howland looked at Mole and said "Your mother is looking for you. Why don't you go find her?"  
Mole ran off and Arya was secretly glad. He reminded her of when Rickon told their mother when she and Jon had pranked Sansa or Robb by dumping buckets of snow on them. Sansa always freaked, but Robb laughed and chased after them, pelting them with snowballs.

Howland gave her a curious look, and asked "Did you honestly think that you would get any information out of the prisoner?"

Arya hadn't but she needed to do something, something useful other than running around Greywater playing at child's games with Mole.

"I wanted to help." She said stubbornly. Howland nodded and said "If you got hurt, or if the prisoner escaped, your brother would blame himself."

"It's no fault of his what I do!" she said, and Howland nodded.

"I know this, but he would blame himself anyway, would he not?" he asked. A few days and Howland Reed already knew her and Robb, and probably Sansa better than she did him. But everyone said Robb acted like father, and Howland had been their father's friend. He would know how Robb would react if Lannister had succeeded in goading her into opening his cell door

She bowed her head and said "It was not my place to go. I am sorry my lord."

He placed his hand on her shoulder and said "You did not tell him who you were, I hope. And you did not release him accidently. No harm done, but stay away from the Lannister man."

She nodded and asked "Is Robb still awake?"

He smiled, and she felt faintly reminded of her father. "He is. He has been asking after you."

She nodded and said "Thank you, Lord Reed."

He nodded and she ran off the Robb's room. It would be better not to mention any of this to Robb. He had enough to worry about without adding her into the mix. She would keep this to herself, if only for now.

**Oh Arya, why wouldn't you work properly for this chapter? You just, wouldn't fit with my original plans.**

**Well, if you haven't guessed, this is chapter two. Surprise. Wow, making quick work of this so far. Got to figure out some plot details, hope you enjoy. Thank you to the Librarian (guest), the only reviewer for the last chapter. **


	3. Chapter 3

**Wow, been a while. not my best, and its short. apology at end note. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own GOT or song of ice and fire**

**DAENERYS POV**

They all say in the captain's quarters; her, Aegon, Ser Barristan, Jon Connington and Septa Lemore. She did not know either of Aegon's companions but she knew Lord Connington had worked with her father and was his Hand before he lost a battle and was exiled. Of Septa Lemore, she was an enigma. She was glad of Ser Barristan in the room, the only one she truly knew was on her side.

"You will have no crown nor an iron throne to call yours if you refuse to make allies." Jon said. He was a hard man, but treated Aegon rather respectfully before this argument.

Aegon crossed his arms, his violet eyes flashing and said "We need no allies. When they see the dragons returned, they will bow to their rightful kings."

Daenerys was surprised. She thought Aegon wiser than that, to assume so.

"Your Grace, if I may." Ser Barristan said. Aegon nodded and he continued "You will just be another king in a long war. The Lannisters have their king, the North has their Stark boy king and I believe Stannis is still alive, but a spent force at Dragonstone. You cannot expect them to surrender just because you come with the Targaryen name."

Aegon's rage seem to die down some, but he looked far but beaten in this argument.

"Dorne is ours, and we have an army and dragons, which Westeros has not seen in thousands of years. They will submit or burn."

Daenerys stood and said "Aegon, my blood, my kin. You must listen, this is no game. These are lives of men, this is real people you wish to conquer. They will not want what they think will be another blood thirsty, mad Targaryen again. They will want a king who will protect them and show them that he will be kind and just."

Aegon placed his hand over hers and said "Daenerys, my blood, my kin, Mother of Dragons. We do not need allies, do you doubt your children's power?"

No, she didn't. Her children were powerful. But Westeros was large, and dragon slayers had killed in the past.

"The North makes no claim to the Iron Throne. They claim the north as independent. They have the north and the river lands. Both good, honorable men. Robb Stark has no army and nothing but his wounded pride. He would be open for negotiation and his strength and allegiance would show that you would control half the realm again." Jon Connington said. Aegon seemed to be losing this argument on all sides, and Daenerys was glad. She wanted to escape the room and the argument they had been debating over for nearing all morn. She wanted to see her children.

Aegon stood and said "Very well. We shall send a raven to this Lord Stark and see if he will cast his lot with the dragons, the rightful heirs to the throne."

Daenerys stood to leave and Ser Barristan stood and followed her.

She stepped onto the deck and welcomed the sea spray that smelt of salt and clean air that was not stifled.

"Will the Stark boy join with us, Ser Barristan?" she asked. Ser Barristan was silent, staring over the water as if deep in thought.

"I knew his father, Eddard. He may have been with the Baratheons in the rebellion, but he was an honorable man. If his son is anything like him, I pray that he will make the right choice."

**RUGOR POV**

He had stayed at the farm for three days. Three days consumed with fever and the wary caution of the farmer that had taken him in, along with his daughter and two sons. The daughter had stitched up his leg and given him water and food, though it was scant more than half a heel of bread.

"We can spare no more." Was what she said every time she gave him his small meal. It matter not he could barely keep down food for the first three days, all he could manage was some dirty water, cool and soothing on his parched throat. Cool cloths on his forehead and neck kept control of the fever and his wound was slowly healing, leaving what he would imagine to be a vicious puckered scar afterwards, in a few years time.

He sat up by himself the third day. He was walking in seven. The daughter was kind, but only appeared with is food and to check his cut and the stitches.

On the eighth day, he met the farmer.

The man was old, his face wrinkled and eyes hard and wary. His shoulders were stooped slightly, but he was still a rather tall, thick man. He sat on a stool and watched him for a minute when he finally said.

"We found you near the river by our house. Not a big river mind you, but you would have drowned just the same. My sons dragged you here and my daughter watched over you. She's a fine hand sewing clothes, so your leg was not much different. Your horse has been put to good use. Not much of a riding horse, but a good working horse.

Rugor sat up straighter, and as the farmer said nothing, he asked "Why did you save me?"

The farmer shrugged and said "Me and my boys would rather leave you in the river. My daughter saved you, most likely because she's seen enough death in this gods' damned war."

Rugor was silent again. So was the farmer. They watched each other for a minute before Rugor asked "How long until I can leave again?"

The farmer's eye flicked to the window, as if guessing the time that would pass, the days that would pass before the stranger was gone from his home.

"Two more days should get you ready to leave. Then I want you out of my house and gone with your horse." The farmer said, standing. Rugor nodded and said "Thank you, for saving me."

The farmer chuckled darkly and said "I didn't save you. That be my daughter. Give your thanks to her."

Rugor watched him leave and he fell back onto the bed. Two days. Two more days resting, leaving the Starks out there alone. He hoped they could take care of themselves, that they had found someone somewhere who would take them in. Last he had seen them, His Grace looked like he wouldn't last longer than three days. He had to find them. He promised the queen.

Envisioning a map of Westeros he had seen, he tried to guess where he was. The God's Eye was a few miles away, so they were near Harrenhal. Riverrun had been taken, the second son had come back shouting that. So the next place would be…

North. The Neck was the farthest south north goes, the closest thing to home ground. He knew the Starks wouldn't trust easily again, so they would head to someone who had known their father and had been his friend and who they knew they could trust.

His thoughts disappeared when the daughter entered the room, her head bowed and carrying a wooden cup of water and a heel of bread. She placed them on the stool by his bed and turned to leave.

"Wait."

The daughter paused, and her eyes flitted to his for a moment before going back to her feet. Rugor paused, waiting for her to say something, before continuing "Thank you, for saving my life. And stitching my cut. And keeping me in your home."

The daughter said nothing in gratitude, but he saw a faint smile on her face before she ducked her head, hiding her face behind her hair. She nodded once and left, and Rugor sighed.

Two more days….

**ROSLIN POV**

It took three days before Roslin could even think of leaving her rooms. The taunts had followed her, about the name Frey she used to wear, about the horrors that her brothers and father had done in the Twins, about the families he had murdered. It followed her, those ghosts, haunting her every footstep.

It took three days for Edmure to convince her to leave the safety of her chambers. When she did, she only meekly followed Edmure around, bowing her head to the hard looks and scowls and glares and muttered curses she couldn't hear. She knew everyone wanted her family dead, and it worried her that she would still be considered Frey and not Tully. That she would be killed along with her family.

She heard of the Starks arrival- who hadn't? - and she had obviously stepped nowhere near the hall where they had put his Grace, or near where the Stark sisters were placed closely nearby. She had been part of the family that had murdered their mother and tried to kill their brother. Her family destroyed the Stark army, and had ruined the war for them. Had destroyed the north men's fight for independence.

Often, Edmure was talking with his nephew, the war council making efforts to find a way to destroy the Boltons holding his home in the north and the Freys who had killed so many in the south. Edmure wanted Riverrun back from Lannister control, and she knew that he wanted his home back. She only hoped that she wouldn't be murdered alongside her family.

She jumped to her feet when the door opened, but her heart beat didn't slow to see the young queen in the north standing there, looking just as shy and possibly a little embarrassed to be there.

She had seen much of the young queen in Riverrun, sat with her and talking with her as her own stomach had a tiny swell, hidden under the rolls of cloth. They had spoken of children and Roslin thought that she was the only one who the young woman had cried to when she found of her mother's betrayal and the death of the young babe that had never had a chance at life.

The young queen curtsied and said "I am sorry to intrude Lady Roslin, but I was wondering….if you would follow me."

Roslin felt curiosity prickle in her mind, but she set aside the swaddling cloth and said "Of course Your Grace."

Jeyne turned pink at the title as she always did, but she led them out of the room and down a hall Roslin hadn't seen before. She seemed to know her way down this hall well, and lead her to one door.

"I would ask that you be quiet my lady." Jeyne said, and opened the door.

Roslin peered inside and saw first the small cot and the smell of sweat and a faint taint of coppery blood. Then she saw the great grey direwolf, curled beside the bed and watching her intently, as if trying to read her very thoughts. Then the young king lying on the bed.

He was lying back, eyes closed and breathing softly. Jeyne smiled to herself and took one of the chairs as her seat. Roslin stood in the doorway, unable to move past the grey wolf's eyes and the sight of the sleeping king.

"Grey Wind will not hurt you Roslin, come sit next to me." Jeyne patted the chair, but her attempt at comfort was misguided. She edged closer slowly, eyeing both man and wolf warily. Why had Jeyne brought her here? Had the king realized a Frey was in the keep and brought her forward to execute her? She didn't know, but had to fight to keep herself from fleeing the room in that instant. She sat on the edge of her seat, and Jeyne took her hand in one, and shook the king's shoulder with the other.

"Robb, she's here." She said, smiling to herself again. Roslin stiffened as his eyes opened, much clearer and brighter than when she had last seem them, glassy with fever and exhaustion. His eyes went to her immediately and he bowed his head.

"My lady Tully." He said as by a way of greeting. Roslin nodded, unable to find her voice. This was it, they would condemn her and place her in a cell with the Lannister man and she would never see the light of day.

"Your Grace." She said, a faint whisper.

His eyes never left hers, and they seemed brighter, like chips of sunlight ice in his haggard, thin face.

"My uncle has told me that you helped the maester tend to me in the Twins when I was…imprisoned there." He said.

Roslin withheld the confused look from flitting over her face. "Yes Your Grace, but anyone would have done it. I just did what I thought right."

"And you saved my life in your actions." In Roslin's eyes, Robb Stark had never looked more a king now, with a serious face and even recovering from fever and wounds and torment inflicted on him in both the Twins and King's Landing.

He looked away now, eyes flitting to Jeyne's for a moment before continuing "There is nothing that I can give you for the help you offered me in the Twins. Though your name was once Frey, you can be assured that you will not be tried alongside your family. I am thankful for what you have done, and you can always know that the Starks are your allies, and that you will always find a place to stay in Winterfell."

Roslin felt her worry dripping away as the young king spoke. He would not imprison her, or cut off her head. She would live. She could have a family with Edmure.

She never considered herself emotional. She grew up in the Twins, where your emotions could be used against you and you were quickly put down to the bottom of the complex social tower. But now, she smiled to the young boy, he looked a boy now, a tired boy, and said "Thank you, your Grace. You do not know how much this means for me."

He smiled and bowed his head, and she flicked her eyes at Jeyne. Jeyne was smiling, pleased for her and Roslin stood to leave.

"I shall take my leave, Your Grace." She said, to regain what composure she retained.

Robb nodded and said "And congratulation my lady, may you have many strong sons."

Her hand flew to her stomach on instinct, to protect the child growing inside her. The swell was barely there, just starting to grow. But she was fiercely protective. This life was inside her, she had to protect it.

"Thank you Your Grace." She said, curtsying and turned to leave.

"I'll walk with you." Jeyne said, standing and giving Robb a swift kiss before collecting her skirts and walking alongside her.

As soon as the door shut behind her, Jeyne broke into a shy smile and asked "When were you going to tell me about this?"

Roslin smiled and touched the swell softly. "I wanted to wait, until the maester confirmed it. I shall tell Edmure tomorrow morning."

Jeyne's smile widened and she said "He shall be most pleased and delighted. You are a very lucky woman Roslin."

The young queen's gaze drifted to her own belly, where no child lay growing or anything. Roslin felt pity for the woman pool in her heart and she said "Oh, I apologize for my unfeelingness."

Jeyne waved the comment aside and said "It is alright, you should be happy." She smiled and said "A little son to grow strong and make you proud."

Roslin smiled and said "You will have many sons one day too Your Grace. They will be kings and queens."

Jeyne smiled and said "I would rather they be happy."

**Alright, massive delay with the updating, but I lost my train of thought and the inspiration kind of went down the toilet. So, I apologize for any inconvenience and cursing for the wait. Its short, and man I haven't done a Roslin since the first chapters of Captured. Ah, that brings me back…**

**Whatever, you won't want to hear that. Expect next chapter soon. Hopefully. **


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I don't own GOT or song of ice and fire**

** EDWYN POV**

He stood before his great-grandfather, clothes unchanged, still smelling like the road and a bloody cut on his chin. Embarrassment prickled hot under his skin, and his head was bowed to avoid the burning stairs of his family around him and especially his great-grandfather.

"What do you have to say for yourself?" his great-grandfather asked, his scowl etched onto his flabby, fat face. Edwyn had no words to defend himself, and his great-grandfather wouldn't listen anyways. So he remained silent.

His great-grandfather waved his hand and said "You were the one that said we should spare him. You were the one that said we should save him and take him out. Gain the Lannisters favor. We have their favor now."

The Freys around him, his great-grandfather seated in the seat of Freys for generations, it gave the feeling of a trial. He licked his lip, only remembering it to be split when coppery blood made his tongue recoil at the taste and feel of the thick red liquid.

"I am sorry lord great-grandfather, I did not know this would happen." He said, knowing it was pointless. This mattered nothing to his great-grandfather, only the fact that the one who disgraced their family was free and alive, and it was his fault.

Walder Frey laughed, more a breathless wheeze and said "Take him and lock him in his room. He is no son of mine, to fail so disgracefully."

Black Walder grabbed him by his wrists, pulling till his shoulders nearly touched and dragged him along, tugging him backwards from the hall that had been bathed in blood once, where corpses had been the only guests in their own twisted dance. The thought left him sickened.

"Come on traitor, let's go." Black Walder grumbled to him, tugging his arms harder and his muscles protested the mistreatment.

An involuntary groan escaped his lips, and Black Walder laughed darkly.

"Did I hurt the little boy? Did that hurt Edwyn?" he taunted. Edwyn remained closed lipped, refusing to give him the satisfaction he so desired. Black Walder laughed and tugged again, but this time no sound escaped him as he was hauled to his room. Thrown into the rather small, dingy room, the door was locked behind him with a final curse thrown over Black Walder's shoulder. He wiped the blood spilling from his split lip and stood up, mindful of his sore bones and bruises from days of mistreatment. Curse Walder Frey and Robb Stark to the deepest hells, the source of his problems. If Robb Stark had done as he was supposed to and died, he would have been saved this shame. His great-grandfather would have been pleased, Tywin Lannister would have been pleased, and he would not have been dragged into his home a prisoner, he would have been honored as a hero. The one to save his family the embarrassment. And curse his thick headed great-grandfather with an ego as delicate as glass.

He sat on his bed, his head in his hands and sighed, a world weary sound.

Then there was a soft knock on his door, and he glanced up.

Suspecting Black Walder, he braced himself for the physical and verbal tirade that would surely be launched his way. Black Walder was never quiet or still in his taunting and this would be a ripe opportunity, to lose Walder's favor and place in jeopardy his standing in the family inheritance.

Rather, the door opened softly and his daughter's face peered up at him, her lip out and her brow crinkled.

"Walda?" he asked, almost surprised his young daughter had managed to find him.

She stepped in the room and ran forward, grabbing him in a tight embrace around his neck, her thin arms almost strangling him.

"Walda, how did you get the key?" he asked.

His young daughter blushed at the question and said "Black Walder dropped it, on the floor. I found it and came to find you. I missed you Father."

She embraced him tightly again, burying her face in his neck. He held his daughter close, smiling to himself. He had missed his daughter, which was more than many of her cousins could say, all imprisoned in the Twins. His sweet, young little girl that still was innocent, after all the bloodshed that had happened under her feet with her family as the criminals.

"I missed you too, sweet girl." He told her, and smiled at her as warmly as he could. She frowned and touched his split lip lightly, wiping away blood that had beaded on his chin.

"Did Uncle Walder hurt you?" she asked, grabbing a cloth lying nearby and pressing it to his face, wiping to blood away. He let his daughter fuss, and said "No, this was done by someone else."

"The King in the North, right Father. You took him south to pay for his crimes against the king, but he escaped and caught you. That's what Mylenda told Perra."

Walda wrinkled her nose and said "Perra said Uncle Walder wants to kill you and Father so he can get the Twins."

He felt his blood run cold, hearing those words come from his daughter's lips.

"Why would Perra say that, hm sweet child?" he asked, taking the now crimson rag from her fingers.

Walda shrugged and said "She said that because her mother told her that, but I don't believe that. He'd be a kinslayer, and that's bad. Like the Imp killed the king. He's a bad man."

Edwyn nodded, not paying much attention to the last part of her monologue. He felt something cold and hard settle in his gut, and he glanced at his young daughter.

He had always suspected that Black Walder wanted to kill him, to gain himself another step towards their great-grandfather's long sought after seat and lordship of the Twins. Edwyn was older and more suited for the title then his thick headed, bullish younger brother. And it brought him in no favor with the rumors going around that his brother had slept with his wife and made him distrust her ever since.

Now, something dark and horribly stark in truth drifted through his mind. If Black Walder wanted the lordship of the Twins, he would kill Edwyn, but Edwyn had an heir. His daughter.

He stared at little Walda, gently wiping the blood from a cut on his shoulder, and felt something primal and fierce protectiveness of his young daughter seized him. He half believed himself capable of tearing Black Walder limb from limb if it meant that he would not harm the small innocent young child before him, the one that shared his blood.

Then the cold, hard realization slammed into him, like something had dropped it into his mind in a desperate bid to save him.

He had lost favor with his great-grandfather, and he had disgraced the Frey name. the northerners had learned the consequence of this, and now he feared for himself. His great-grandfather would not care if he was found dead, leaving only his young daughter, without him to protect her and just a young girl, standing between a power-hungry Black Walder and the inheritance of the Twins.

His breath caught in his throat and his heart skipped one beat, two. He knew then what he would have to do. Stuck in his room, he was merely imprisoned prey before his brother would go mad and kill him to get the black chair their great-grandfather currently sat. then Black Walder would kill Walda in cold blood and he could not allow his brother to touch his daughter, to harm her in anyway.

He would have to leave, with his daughter. The Twins weren't safe anymore, Roslin had seen that before any of them had. He had to leave, to find refuge somewhere, somewhere Black Walder wouldn't find him of Walda.

They had to run.

** ROBB POV**

The two letters had been taunting him since the second had arrived two days past.

One was sealed with red wax, already broken, read, and scoured for any hint of detail hidden unsaid and unwritten in the letter. The second was also red wax, but the three headed dragon sigil made him hesitate to open that letter, to read what the supposed dragons had to say to him, a fallen king without a castle.

So he sat, staring at those letters, one in either hand.

He had been thrilled to see Jon's hand in the letter, his words on paper. He had not heard from his brother since he marched south, since their father's beheading by the hands of Joffrey. He had worried for his brother, and now found reassurance that he was alright. But after Jon's greetings, that was when the letter had spoken ill.

Stannis Baratheon was at the Wall, preaching with his Red Witch about how he was the rightful king and how it was his right to ascend the throne. How he would kill Robb and Joffrey, except the latter was already dead, choked at his own wedding.

Robb had heard the news and couldn't stop the small smile from spreading across his face. Weddings were becoming a dangerous matter these days. Tywin Lannister tried to kill him at his uncle's wedding, so now his grandson was dead at his own wedding.

The irony was not lost on him.

But Tywin Lannister had nothing to do with the choice sitting before him. He already could guess that the so called dragons would want him to pledge to their cause, set aside his crown in favor of an alliance with them. He controlled the North and most of the Riverlands not under Lannister power. Over half the realm.

So he sat, and he stared. And he did not make a move to touch the unbroken seal on the second letter.

Time seemed pointless, imprisoned in that bed and unable to leave since either Jeyne, Lady Jyanna or Grey Wind would force him back with unfavorable consequences and rather interesting threats to his well-being.

So he sat, and he stared, and still made no decision.

Jeyne found him sometime latter, stopped over with exhaustion and still conflicted over the letters sent his way, still unsure of which course he should take, still confused about which path was the right one for the north, for him, for his family still alive and with him.

"What are you doing awake still?" Jeyne asked, setting the candle down on his nightstand and sitting beside him, peering over his shoulder at the letters.

"I don't know what to do Jeyne." He said in a low voice, but Jeyne was the only one he could voice his uncertainties to. He trusted his sisters, he loved them as much and more as before the war, but they were young and would not make the choice any easier.

Jeyne took the opened letter in hand, eyes skimming over the words as Robb rubbed his eyes. He had read that letter over so many times the inked words had imprinted into his mind, searing like a brand in his mind's eye so that he could still read it with his eyes closed. His eyes burned like fire from staring unseeing so long, and he was unsure if he had even moved or blinked during those long, timeless hours sitting and staring.

Jeyne set the letter aside and took the second, her thumb brushing over the red dragon before setting aside unread still.

"I can't make this decision for you Robb, but I know that I will support whatever choice you do make in this." She said, pressing her face to his hair, cut when before it had been long and thin and un-kept, and clean when it had been limp and foul smelling and sticky with mud and blood mixed.

Jeyne smiled and took his hand in hers and placed it on his bandaged chest, directly over his heart. He looked at her, unsure where she was going with this.

"Your heart is more pure and noble than any other man I have ever met. You are more honorable then Tywin Lannister, and your heart would make you father proud now." Robb felt the now familiar twist of grief in his heart at the mention of his father, the guilt and grief still fresh and open and raw.

Jeyne pressed her forehead to his and said in a soft whisper "Your heart will tell you the answer, it will not fail now." She said.

Robb felt no better after her words, but pulled her close and laid down, pressing her against his chest and stroking her hair.

"You are sure you are no story teller?"

Jeyne laughed lightly, and pressed herself close, and he felt his mind relax with the soft, repetitive motion of his hand in her hair and her soft breathing was calming, and he felt his eyes slipping closed. Jeyne was still awake, he could tell without looking, and he knew that she was trying to get him to sleep now, and he felt himself smiling.

"You are doing this on purpose." He told her, gently poking her and his voice sounded slightly slurred with sleep even to him.

He didn't need to expand, but Jeyne turned in his arms and smiled at him gently, cupping his face.

"Tell me you are not enjoying this." She teased, and Robb didn't have time for a retort, already feeling the tug of sleep pull at his eyes.

"You tease." He murmured one last time, before tugging Jeyne even closer and smiling into her hair as he felt himself flying away, slipping away into sleep.

_His mind felt reawakened, like every sense was heightened so he could taste scent on the wind and smell the soft breathes of his companion on the bed beside him. _

_His companion's mate sat up, tugging his arms away from around her body. He fell back limply, a soft snore escaping. The mate smiled and turned to look at him and patted his head gently._

_ "Watch over him for me." She whispered to him, standing and moving to leave._

_ Of course he would watch over his companion. He had left him once, and that had resulted in near months without him, injured and lost. He would never leave his side again. _

_He couldn't say as much to the mate, but she understood him without words and smiled again. _

_"Watch over him." she repeated before opening the door and slipping away, shutting it behind her with a soft thud. _

_He sat up, already padding towards the bedside and resting his head on the bed. It had been so long since it had been just two, two companions. There was already the bog lady around, or the mate, or his companion's men or his companions litter mates. It had been long since they had been alone, and he felt his guard relaxing slightly._

_ His breath puffed in his companion's face, fluttering short hair and making his face scrunch in sleep. He made no move, knowing he wouldn't awake for a long time yet. He had been sitting there, doing nothing for many hours. It was dark now, and the sounds of the night life of the swamp called to him. He longed to leave, to run and hunt live prey and escape the enclosed space of the fort, but he refused to even consider it. His companion needed him close, to watch over him as he had failed to do at the river party. The sharp scent of blood still prickled his nose, and he could still hear the screams of the dying and condemned. He had failed once, he would not fail again. _

_Moving his head to his paws, he lay on the ground, oddly content. His fur was warm, his companion was safe and his litter mate was also here, where he could see her and watch over her, as a leader of the pack should. As a leader of the pack always will._

_ There was no prickling sense of fear now, no anxiety that something would lunge from the shadows to attack his companion. His nerves were relaxed, and he took the moment of respite to rest, recover, and regain strength to fight a battle that would not end in a long time._

_ Man and wolf lay side by side, and the sounds of the swamp echoed around him in a haunting lullaby._

**Man, that just sounded weird. Oh well, ITS WRITTEN! HALLELUIAH! Sorry it sounds like crap, but it's the best I could do in the time frame of this week. Oh well.**


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